


Heartbeat

by KarsKars



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, M/M, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Keith/Lance (Voltron), Struggling college students just want to get some sleep dammit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-06-30 07:22:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19848328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarsKars/pseuds/KarsKars
Summary: Keith and Lance are struggling college students. Oblivious and love-struck, these two idiots must navigate their demanding schedules and figure out what they want before it's too late.Chapter 1 Excerpt:Lance groaned and, slumping down, let his head fall against the back of his chair.“Ahh Mr. McLain! Did you have something constructive you’d like to add?” Professor Smyth unabashedly called him out, drawing the attention of the entire class. He felt a deep blush settle on his cheeks as his peers twisted and turned in their seats to stare at him, their eyes burrowing into his soul.“Uh, no, sorry. I – uh, was just – I’m sorry.” He stammered, covering his face with his hands in an attempt to hide.Please make me disappear!He begged the universe. Naturally the universe didn’t listen. So he sat there, in all his tangible glory, dying of embarrassment.





	1. Lance

Lance sat in the back of the room as always. Tapping his pen on the edge of his desk he absentmindedly stared at the clock above the door, willing time to speed up or at the very least return to a normal rate. Clearly there was some sort of anomaly in this wing of campus that caused time to slow dramatically. Their professor droned on about something he had stopped paying attention to a long time ago. Beside him Hunk was furiously taking notes and listening intently as Professor Smythe continued plowing threw what could have been covered in a printout. Lance groaned and, slumping down, let his head fall against the back of his chair.

“Ahh Mr. McLain! Did you have something constructive you’d like to add?” Professor Smyth unabashedly called him out, drawing the attention of the entire class. He felt a deep blush settle on his cheeks as his peers twisted and turned in their seats to stare at him, their eyes burrowing into his soul.

“Uh, no, sorry. I – uh, was just – I’m sorry.” He stammered, covering his face with his hands in an attempt to hide. _Please make me disappear!_ He begged the universe. Naturally the universe didn’t listen. So he sat there, in all his tangible glory, dying of embarrassment.

“Mmm, perhaps pay closer attention? This could be on the exam!” The rest of class suddenly snapped their necks back to their papers and began a mad rush to transcribe the information on the board. Professor Smythe merely stood at his podium, quietly waiting for a response.

“Uh, yea I uh – I have a hard time focusing so I have an audio recorder -” Lance held up the small recording device and gave it a little wiggle “- so that I can play back the lecture for studying.” He finished, still blushing slightly.

“Ahh well, an excellent solution my boy. But do try not to distract the others will you?” He offered a large, bright smile while twirling his moustache and continued on with the lecture. Lance nodded fervently and slid further in his chair, still holding out hope the universe will answer his silent plea.

Another 30 minutes dragged on before he could pack up his bag, sling it over his shoulder, and walk down the steps to the exit.

“Mr. McLain? A word if you will.” _Shit._ He knew it had been too easy.

Hunk passed him a sympathetic glance, which he returned with a massive blush; still mortified from earlier, before heading out into the hall. Lance turned from the throng of students and made his way to the podium.

“Hey Prof, what’s up?” He tried to be nonchalant.

“You’re a good student, Lance. You submit your work on time and you pull decent grades. But you need to show more involvement and interest. Is this something you actually want to pursue or are you just here to get the ‘college experience’ and party-it-up or whatever? Because if that’s the case then stop wasting our time. We _both_ know you have no trouble focusing, and while I agree that recording the lectures is a great study tool, I doubt that’s why you do it. So, what have you to say for yourself?”

Lance stood in shock for a moment. This was not at all what he had expected, maybe a little ‘son you need to pay attention’ or the classic ‘if you need help there are tutoring programs' but not this. Not being fully and openly called out for his bull.

Long story short - Lance had gotten lazy. There were students who didn’t want to get up and go to their early morning classes, or they worked odd hours and couldn’t make it to those classes, or they had conflicting class schedules, or they had kids they had to take to school, or whatever else was keeping them from attending. So Lance would record the lectures and take detailed notes based on the recordings, then sell those notes to the students who wanted them. It was a simple way of making a few extra bucks, not a lot of money, but enough to fund his social life. The only problem was he knew he had those recordings and if he got really stuck, he knew Hunk had notes. So Lance had gotten lazy. He stopped paying attention in lecture and he stopped taking notes during class, relying instead on his recordings. He would jot down anything that was written on the board, but otherwise he just zoned out and all but napped.

Lance looked back at Professor Smythe, he didn’t really know what to say. He could come clean but then he’d probably get in trouble from the school for selling his notes, or he might be asked to provide the names of his client base. On the other hand he could just embrace his lie and double down. He chose the latter.

“Thanks sir, I – I really do listen to the recordings when I get home and I take detailed notes. I can show them to you if you want! I just, I can’t force myself to listen in class.” Being an avid lover of the dramatic arts, he knew how to put on a performance and now it was time to really sell it. Lance dialed up the innocent and embarrassed to 100 and looked up at his professor with wide, teary eyes and a big ol’ blush of embarrassment. “I’m sorry if you thought you were boring me, it’s not that at all! I just can’t focus for that long. It’s easier at home cause I can walk away from my desk and pick it back up when I’m ready. I’m sorry sir, I’ll try to be more respectful.” He dropped his head to show remorse. Any second now he would get the ‘oh it’s ok blah blah blah’ that usually followed his impassioned deliveries.

“Yes, I would like to see those notes. You can submit the entire terms notes to me tomorrow morning for my review. I will also be asking your friend Hunk for a copy of his notes to be sure you didn’t submit those, by mistake of course.” There was a knowing look to his eyes, one that told Lance he was walking a very thin line. Luckily for him, his notes were nothing like Hunks.

He nodded, keeping his head low. “Of course. Anything else sir?”

“Yes actually, if you see Mr. Kogane can you tell him to submit his notes as well? I haven’t seen him in class for a while.” Lance paled. He visibly and noticeably paled. “Or is that going to be a problem?” Professor Smythe was twirling his moustache again and Lance realized he was well and truly screwed.

In a last ditch effort to save himself, Lance grasped at the only plausible excuse he had. “We aren’t friends sir. I don’t actually know him outside of classes.” At least it was mostly the truth. They weren’t friends. Keith Kogane was one of his clients but they didn’t actually hangout or anything.

“Hmm ok. I’ll just have to send him an email then. Have a nice day.” He finished up with a light, dismissive wave of his hand as he turned his attention back to the papers on the podium. Garbling out some half-hearted goodbye, Lance calmly sauntered out of the lecture hall. Once the door closed he bolted back to his residence, he had an entire term worth of notes to rewrite and a delinquent to warn.

* * *

The door to his room shut heavily behind him and Lance rushed to his desk, dropping his book bag on the floor with a loud thud as he powered up his shitty old laptop. Saved in a folder on his desktop were the audio files from all of his past lectures, and their subsequent notes. Opening the first file he set to work editing the incredibly detailed notes he had taken, comparing them to the posted material from Professor Smythe. 

The Profs were supposed to post an outline of the material covered in each lecture for students who may have missed a class. They were also a great resource if you wanted a refresher while studying. But the outlines were not detailed enough to be used to supplement actually attending lectures on a regular basis. Students who skipped lecture and only used the outlines failed, students who purchased Lance’s notes passed. It’s why he had so many clients. He sent a quick text to the delinquent, and got to work.

After 3 hours he had managed to re write the first month of lecture notes. Squeezing them down from approximately 5 pages each to just over 1 page per lecture. His plan was to give these notes to Keith to hand in, it would make sense for the one who never attended to have questionable notes. Then Lance would hand in his own beautiful notes that he had spent so long drafting. They were even colour coded and cross-referenced pages in the text book with sections of previous notes. Honestly he should charge more.

Another 2 hours passed and Lance was ready to fall asleep at his desk. In fact, he might have dozed a little. There was a suspicious looking puddle of drool forming by his cheek and if it weren’t for the beep of his phone, he probably would have nodded off completely.

_KK: ?_

Lance rolled his eyes and typed his reply.

 _LM: dude prof smythe is like, hella pissed._  
_LM: I think he knows about the notes._  
_LM: he wants u to hand in ur notes tmr morning. Me and hunk too._  
_LM: I did new notes for u – come pick em up._  
_LM: we can’t hand in the same ones!!!!!!!!!_

He waited a whole 10 minutes before the message switched from _delivered_ to _read_ and he saw the ‘…’ of a reply being crafted.

_KK: k_

Grumbling Lance tossed his phone on the bed and sent the new notes through to his printer. It would be more believable if Keith actually wrote them out by hand but he doubted that would happen. Just as the last page printed, Hunk came back to their shared dorm.

“Hey man, you have a project due or something?”

“No, I uh, got in trouble and I’m sorry but I kinda got you dragged into it.” Hunk’s eyes shot wide and Lance stammered to correct himself. “No, no not like that! No, you’ll be fine!! Prof Smythe just wants a copy of your notes for the term. He wants to make sure the notes I have to submit are actually mine and I’m not just studying off your notes.”

They both deflated a bit as some of the tension left the room. “Ugh good, cause like, I love you and all, but I’m not about to go down with your ship dude! I’ve worked too hard for this! And like, I’m on a scholarship man, I can’t afford to get in any trouble!!”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’m the one in trouble.”

“Lance, buddy, you’re here on a scholarship too! Don’t do anything stupid.”

“A little late for that.” He offered his big ol’ teddy bear roommate a sheepish grin. If this didn’t work Lance was truly screwed.

* * *

Keith didn’t show up. Lance was panicking. He had text that bastard like a thousand times and the messages showed as _read_ but he hadn’t gotten a single reply. It was almost 7:30 AM and he had to drop off his notes to Professor Smythe soon but still no Keith. Lance was going to kill him. He was going to shoot that tardy asshole right in the face!

“Hey” The quiet voice appeared out of nowhere and Lance nearly jumped out of his skin.

“DUDE! What the hell! You were supposed to come to my dorm last night and pick these up. I’ve been so stressed out I barely slept. If I get a breakout from this I swear I’m going to kill you!!” Lance was seething and it showed in the way his words had rushed out at a speed he was surprised Keith could still understand.

“Lance, relax. I’m here now aren’t I? Just give me the damn notes and grab a coffee or do some yoga or something.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, shifting his weight onto his right leg as he looked over Lance’s shoulder and avoided eye contact.

“Yea, ok here -” Lance shoved the printouts into Keith’s chest and continued without missing a beat “- don’t show up at the same time as me. And don’t tell prof Smythe I wrote these. And don’t tell him that I warned you. And don’t tell him that we know each other. And don’t -”

“- yea, got it” he said taking the notes and turning on his heel to storm away.

Lance watched him trudge across the quad and let out a puff of air he didn’t even realize he had been holding. Maybe this would be ok, maybe it would all blow over and everything would be just fine. _Please let this be ok!_ He pleaded with the universe, hoping beyond hope that this time would be different; _this_ time the universe would listen.


	2. Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tore down the hall towards his class. Professor Iverson had a habit of starting a few minutes early and shutting the door. Once that door was shut you weren’t allowed in, no matter what.
> 
> Keith slid into the room, catching the professor by surprise as he was already making his way to the door. “You’re lucky.” The gruff man hissed at him. Keith offered a sheepish grin and jogged up the steps to take his seat. Naturally he was the last one there, and the only available seat was next to Lance or the weird kid who smelled like mayonnaise. He chose Lance.

What was better? Handing in the low quality notes Lance had given him or handing in no notes at all? If he handed these in, he would at least get marks for note taking or whatever, but that would open him up to questions. ‘ _Where did you get the information for the notes?’_ or something along those lines. If he answered honestly then Lance would get in trouble, if he lied then he risked getting himself in trouble. But he was already in trouble so why not save the cute Latino boy who was helping him out and just take the blame. At least Lance went to class, Keith couldn’t say the same.

But it wasn’t his fault. He had to work two jobs just to make enough to afford his lab fees, textbooks, and expenses. Luckily he had a loan to pay for tuition and he lived off campus so he didn’t have to pay for residence or food, but it was hard. He barely made it in time to catch Lance this morning, having almost missed the train. If he could afford the gas he would just take his bike to school, but dammit all cause he was too broke to fill it up. A subway pass was way cheaper than gas and he needed to save every penny.

Watching these rich kids parade around campus with fancy clothes and expensive new phones and laptops that their daddy bought them was making him nauseous. That asshole Griffin in his classes was always talking about how his dad was some big business mogul giving him an allowance to spend as he wished. A weekly allowance that was more than Keith made at _both_ jobs in a whole month.

He supposed he could just tell Professor Smythe about his situation, but he wasn’t looking for sympathy and he didn’t want any handouts – he wasn’t Griffin after all. But not showing up, not handing in _something_ was probably not a great idea either. If he didn’t hand in some semblance of notes he might get booted from the class. And if he missed a credit he risked getting kicked out of the program as a whole.

Keith liked school, he really did. He went to all of his classes (except when he had to work) and he handed in all of his assignments. He did well on tests and he studied hard. He just couldn’t commit to a full time student’s schedule. But going down to part-time student wasn’t an option, he needed to get his degree as soon as possible so he could get his dream job and start his life. He couldn’t live with his adoptive brother forever. Especially not when Shiro had just gotten engaged.

Stuffing down his pride Keith made his way to Professor Smythe’s office.

“Ahh Mr. Kogane! I honestly didn’t know if I should expect you or not. Did you get my email?” The eccentric man stood in his office doorway as Lance and another student walked out.

“Yea, here’s my notes.” Keith didn’t walk in; he simply stood in the hall outside the office and dug out the printed pages from his bag. Lance gave him a quick pleading glance from the corner of his eye before disappearing around the corner with his friend.

“Splendid. Come in, come in. I’d like to have a little chat if I may.” Professor Smythe stepped aside and gestured into his office. Keith paused and looked at the time on the clock hanging above the odd man’s desk. He had 30 minutes to get across town before his shift was supposed to start and it was a 20 minute train ride. He really didn’t have time for this.

“I uh, can’t. I gotta run.” He turned to leave but paused at his professor’s words. 

“So you wont be in class again today I assume? Keith, I really think you should consider -”

“- I gotta go.” This time he really did leave. He didn’t need to hear this, not again. It was the same story every time. ‘ _He needed to sort out his priorities_ or maybe it would be ‘ _he needed to show more responsibility_ or perhaps his personal favourite ‘ _I’m only saying this because I care_ ’. It was all bullshit anyways. No one actually cared.

Lance didn’t care, not about Keith at least. He only cared about making sure he wasn’t busted for selling his notes. Professor Smythe didn’t care; he just wanted to look down on Keith for not showing up. His bosses didn’t care, the foster homes hadn’t cared, and his mom definitely didn’t care or she would have stuck around when he was a kid. No, the only one who actually gave a shit about him was Shiro.

But Shiro had Adam, and Keith couldn’t stay there, he couldn’t intrude on their life any more so he needed to move out. To move out he needed a place to go, and to find a new place he needed to have money, and to get money he needed to work, but work was conflicting with school and _there_ was his dilemma. If he chose work now, he would never finish his degree. If he chose his degree, he wouldn’t have any money to buy things he needed and he would graduate with more debt than should be humanly possible.

The government grant he had applied for had been denied because his asshole foster family had said he stole from them. He didn’t. It was the other kid, but no one believed him because the other kid had big doe eyes and cried crocodile tears while Keith was distant and abrasive. It wasn’t fair, but then again he had learned that lesson a long time ago. Life wasn’t fair – why should he expect anything else, why should he expect a break just because he desperately needed one.

He couldn’t afford to buy his notes, but he _really_ couldn’t afford to miss a shift so he could attend class. If Lance’s notes weren’t so detailed he would in a much bigger predicament. Honestly, the only reason he was passing this class was because of those damn notes.

_DAMN IT!!!_ He missed his train. The next one wasn’t for another 5 minutes and that would mean he’d be late – again. Romelle was going to kill him. This would be the fifth time he’d been late this month and he desperately needed this job. Looks like he was going to have to swallow his pride and do some grovelling.

The train pulled into the station and Keith nearly trampled some old lady in an effort to get out the doors as quickly as possible. He shouted a ‘sorry’ over his shoulder as he ran full tilt up the steps and onto the street. Turning down a familiar alleyway shortcut he knew would save him an extra 3 minutes. It didn’t matter; he was probably still going to be late.

He was late. He stumbled through the doors, heaving to catch his breath as he tied the apron around his waste. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I had to make a pit stop at campus, then I missed my train, and … shit, I’m sorry!”

Romelle stood at the punch clock waiting for him, tapping her foot and checking her watch dramatically. “You had better be sorry. This is starting to become a habit, a really _bad_ habit, Keith! Honestly either be here on time or don’t be here.”

She turned around, her long hair whipping across his face, and stormed off to her office. Keith spat out stray strands of hair and threw his bag in his locker. He rushed out to take his place behind the counter, a long line of college students already forming. “I can help who ever’s next over here!” he called, plastering on the absolute fakest of smiles.

Keith worked his monotonous shift, eyes glancing to the clock every few minutes. He hated this job but at least there was free coffee. His shift would end at noon and his next class was at 12:50 PM so it would be tight but he could make it. He might even have time to snag one of the day old bagels or something on the way. Shay, their baker, was the nicest person in the universe and always set aside a couple of the blueberry day olds for him. Sometimes it would be the only thing he ate for the day. Other times he’d sneak some fries from the kitchen at the bar when no one was looking.

His bartending shift last night had been scheduled to end at 2 AM but that didn’t mean he got to leave right away. He was the closing bartender, which meant he still had to help with the clean up, restock the bar for the next day, and do the cash out. Club Galra closes the kitchen at 11 PM, last call is at 2 AM, and the bar kicks everyone out at 3 AM. So naturally Keith was stuck there till almost 3:15 AM before he finally got to leave.

That late in the night (or early in the morning depending on how you look at it) the only public transit running is the shitty city buses which take way longer than the subway. By the time he got home it was nearly 4 AM and Keith was exhausted. He had set the alarm on his phone and passed out fully dressed, still covered in sticky dried booze.

Two and a half hours of sleep does not a happy Keith make. Thank god for free coffee.

* * *

He tore down the hall towards his class. Professor Iverson had a habit of starting a few minutes early and shutting the door. Once that door was shut you weren’t allowed in, no matter what.

Keith slid into the room, catching the professor by surprise as he was already making his way to the door. “You’re lucky.” The gruff man hissed at him. Keith offered a sheepish grin and jogged up the steps to take his seat. Naturally he was the last one there, and the only available seat was next to Lance or the weird kid who smelled like mayonnaise. He chose Lance.

“Look who decided to show up for class.” The Cuban boy sassed quietly under his breath, just loud enough for Keith to hear him. He rolled his eyes and groaned in response, too tired to form a witty comeback.

“Did Smythe talk to you about the notes?” His normally honey smooth voice hitching slightly as his nerves poked through.

“No.” Keith deadpanned and risked a side-glance to see the worry lines forming on otherwise flawless caramel skin. Letting out a heavy sigh, he elaborated. “I didn’t have time to stick around. Had to get to work.” To punctuate his point, Keith held up the half full cup of coffee in his hand.

“Is that why you always smell so good?” As if slowly registering the way his own words sounded, Lance sputtered and backtracked, trying to clarify as a deep blush settled into place. “I mean, like you know – you always smell like fresh ground coffee and baking and - oh _Dios Mío! Necesito callarme!_ ” He switched to his native Spanish, sliding down in his chair, and his forehead fell against the table top.

Keith chuckled and felt the beginnings of a blush touch at his own cheeks. Luckily Lance was too busy dying to notice. Nudging the now crimson-faced boy beside him, Keith offered a small smile. “I know what you meant.”

“- so you will be partnered up. In an effort to be indiscriminate, your partner will be whom ever you are currently seated beside.” Professor Iverson’s words drifted over the room and rattled his brain back to reality. Never in his whole life had Keith been more thankful to be sitting next to Lance instead of Mayo kid. He shuddered to think of what his dorm would smell like and almost gagged.

“Woah hey, rude!” An incredibly offended pair of ocean blues glared angrily at him and Keith couldn’t help but stare blankly back, completely dumbfounded. What had he done? Lance looked up to the front of the room and bellowed out his request. “Prof, can I get a new partner? Mine’s an ass.” Their classmates snorted under their collective breath and Iverson shot him a pointed look as if actually considering it.

“No.” He said after far too long. “Don’t sit beside people you don’t like next time.”

“Wait – what? – that’s – NO!! He sat beside me!” Lance sputtered. “Ugh this is so unfair!” Grumbling, his arms crossed over his chest and another glare settled in Keith’s direction. Honestly, what did he do?

Lance lowered his voice and nearly spat his words at Keith. “Sorry if the thought of working with me makes you sick, but you had better show up for this! I’m not doing our whole project by myself slacker.” _Ohh._ Keith mentally facepalmed.

“What? I show up! It’s not my fault I can’t make it to Smythe’s ridiculously early classes cause I have to work for a living!” Lance just rolled his eyes. “And I’m not an ass. Dick.”

“You just legit gagged at the thought of having to partner with me for this project. I’d say that qualifies you as a certified ass.”

“What? No I didn’t. I was imagining what Mayo’s dorm smelled like and it made me gag.”

“Who the hell is _Mayo_? And why were you imaging _that_?”

“You know, the weird kid who eats cheese strings in class and always smells like mayonnaise.”

“Ooohh you mean Luke? Why were you thinking about his dorm?”

“Ugh I wasn’t – well I was, but not like that! I was almost late; there were only two seats. You or him – I chose you. Was just thinking I’m lucky I didn’t get partnered with him cause he smells.” Keith shuddered again and mumbled out “Seriously, does he bathe in the stuff?”

A light blush crept across tan cheeks. “So you weren’t almost gagging at having to work with me?”

“What? No, don’t be an idiot.” Seizing the moment to be cheeky, he nudged Lance’s shoulder and put on the most mocking tone he could muster. “Besides, you always smell so good.” The boy gasped.

“Smooth, Kogane. Reeeal smooth.”


End file.
